IRARY OF CONGRESS. 



oTT^" 



Slielf.__._33_ 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2010 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/thoughtsinverseOOsanb 




"Where boughs o'erwaYe and pebWy streanjlet sings, 



[See Conclusion ] 










HOUGHTS 






•\/» 



IN VERSE, 



^3 



By M. p. SAXBURN. 
$0 




KANSAS CITY : 

KAMSEY, MILLETT & HUDSON, 

1881. 



(^ 



T 



^, 






I ^ 



Entered According to Act of Congress in the Year 1881, 

BY M. P. SANBURX, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at ^Vashington. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

The AVildwood Bird 9 

EUDORA 13 

Vendue 37 

The Tempter 42 

•Carrier's Address 53 

Sons of Labor 57 

Fraud and Force 59 

Southland 62 

LSHMAEL 64 

Mary 66 

Introducti VE 69 

Death of Friends 70 

In Memoriam 72 

June 73 

September 75 

December 77 

Epistle to Dr. B. R. S., Ky 79 

To Dr. R. J. S., Esq., Ky 83 

With a Returned Picture Prize Ticket 86 

Flora's Quest 87 

Retrospective 88 

Prospective 89 

Dives 90 

Impromptu 91 

The Fall 92 

Virginia Mocking Bird 94 

Conclusion 101 



^THOn&HTS m VERSE.afc 



s£THE WILDWOOD BIRD'li. 



Man mars the beauties Nature made ; 

His grasping, utilizing hand 
Obstructs the str'eams, disrobes the shade, 

And belts the land with iron band. 

Ere lock or dam obscured its sheen, 

Kentucky s river flowing free, 
Mirrored full many a varied scene 

Of dale and cliff and towering tree, 
And smiled, at evening's truthful hour, 

As youths and maidens whispering nigh 
Enrapt by love's transporting power, 

Forgot all else of earth and sky; 
And it has blushed shame's crimson glow 

From hell-born war's polluting freight, 
As murdered friend and murdering foe 

Sank deeply down in endless hate. 



[Pieces marked with * have before bee i published, some of which are in part 
now modified.] 



10 THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 

Not no2a on love nor hate to dwell, 

This old man's rhyming memory dream, 

Tho' both his heart has known full well ; 
A simple di'rd is all the theme. 

What ^ime the glowing prime of gorgeous June 

Adorns the northern woodnymph's bower, 
When all her airy choirs attune 

Harmonious praise to Nature's power; 
Within a dell, where rock and tree 

Soften the sun's meridian look ; 
Where idUng Echo loves to be, 

Repeating warbling bird and brook ; 
'Twas fhe?i, 'twas there, the tiny thing 

First felt its partial parents' care ; 
Sole nestling 'neath their mutual wing, 

Their doting age esteemed it fair. 
Brief joy 1 From unseen archer's bow 

Two fatal shafts fast following flew, 
And forced their young full soon to go 

Guideless where strange was every view. 
Unfriended then it wandered lone 

The wildwood waste, a wildivood bird, 
In culture's trim demesne unknown, 

Tho' some chance woodman mav have heard. 
Yet oft a lambent brightness fills 

Its musing midnight's brambly bower. 
And strange ethereal music thrills 

With ecstasy its dreaming hour : 
'Tis not the moon's reflected splendor 

On the near streamlet's wavy flow ; 
'Tis not the greetings, gayly tender, 

Of dawn's sweet voices, warbling low. 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. n 

Thus, still mid Summer's softening scene, 

Abundant board and balmy air, 
It well may rove the glen wood green. 

Devote to song, devoid of care : 
But when bleak Winter clouds the sun 

And sheets with snow its sylvan home. 
And beam or shelter there be none, 

Where shall the shiftless songster roam ? 
If, hunger-driven and icy wind, 

It seek some churlish dullard's door. 
What crumb or comfort hope to find 

With only song to pay the score ? 
Song neither clothes his shivering brood. 

Absolves his urgent landlord's fee. 
Nor soothes his ill shrew's murmuring mood— 

For aught so useless use hath he I 

'Twere vainer yet on wearied wing 

Exploring Fashion's sumptuous stage ; 
There alien warblers softly sing 

Sweet nonsense in their gilded cage. 
Wild freedom's bird, dream not of there ! 

Back to the desolated dell 
Thy faint flight take; there yield despair 

Thy last sad note, thy long farewell. 
Perchance some Red-breast, nor'ward hieing, 

Precusor of the vernal train. 
May pause, thy snow-shroud corse espying 

To chant a friendly funeral strain : — 
*' What here neglected lies, this wreck, 

These scenes, that late so gladly met. 
Before the vernant sisters deck 



12 THO UGHTS IN VERSE. 

Their bare estate, will quite forget: 
Yet well it joyed their Summer pride 

Of cliff and stream and grassy glade, 
And lofty forests waving wide 

Their dense domain of dreamy shade. 
For milder scenes and seasons meant, 

Such flight its feeble plumes denied; 
To adverse storms it meekly bent. 

Desponding, drooped its wing, and died. 
Yet, lost for aye aught good or fair ? 

Who knows but He, the Sire of all. 
May some bright heaven for birds prepare ? 

He notes the little sparrow fall ! 

''Thy flight is done, thy welcome won 
AVhere want and winter vex no more : 

Then, lorn one, rest 1 a phantom guest 
Mid vanished scenes of ghostly yore. 

These poor remains, ye kites, forbear! 

Your critic beaks, dissective^ stay, 
And seek some more substantial fare — 

No eagle deigns such petty prey!" 
1867. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 



^Utit J MMJ^ 



Harp of the lone, that long hast lain 
Silent, once more thy voice resume ; 

Respond the heart's enduring pain 
For early love's untimely doom ; 

Then by the melancholy deep 
In cypress shade forever sleep. 

As, near four hundred years ago, 

Columbus from this site renowned * 
At first beheld the torrid glow 

Lead Eve to Edens newly found, 
Beheld the West the heavenly guest 

Embrace with balmy airs entrancing, 
And o'er the main her bridal train 

Advance with sparkling footsteps dancing 
As on that world-ennobling day 

The parting sun with softened ray 
Serenes Havana! s ample bay ; 
But now his rays the high spire gild 

Of many a huge and haughty dome. 
That pride and superstition build 

Where then the Cuban chieftain's home. 



* A few hundred yards inward from the entrance of the bay, or harbor, on the 
south s'de, Columbus first landed, and, at a short distance from the water, devout- 
ly kneeling, returned thanks to God. The site is in the Governor's square, near 
the monument — tomb ?— of Columbus. 



14 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

He with his shell-adorned love 
Free roamed his bread-bestowing grove, 
More blest, perhaps, in mind and heart, 
More nobly played his destined part, 
Than sovereign schooled by polished art. 
That chieftain, from his grove-clad shore. 
With all his race, forevermore 
Has perished ; none the doom deplore : 
For Mammon with a superb smile 
Bade splendid cities gem the Isle, 
Bade Art and Commerce gild each scene 
With luxury's alluring mien. 
And well obeyed was that behest, 
As many a villa, vista fair, 
Princely estate and grand parterre, 
Exquisite taste to nature wed, 
From main to mountain top outspread 
In wondrous beauty, now attest, 
Charming the beholder. 

Time shall be, 

When, from its mountains to the sea, 

Each stately work of treasured art, 
The scenes we love to gaze upon. 

With all that glads the gentle heart, 
Must fade, must fall, forever gone, 

And not a vestige wreck remain 

On sun-crowned height or sea-girt plain. 
Thus, man ! thou and thy works decay ; 

Be wise, then, well enjoy to-day. 

What though on high historic stone 

To many an eye thy name make known ? 

A few brief ages, and around 

The crumbling fragments strew the ground. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 15 

Why then ambition's generous fire, 
Sesostris' scepter, Homer's lyre ? 
Consuming blight shall blank the whole, 
The hero's empire, sage's scroll, 
Till, sole 'mid Earth's enshrouding gloom. 
Oblivion leans on Ruin's tomb. 
Palace and page all past away, 
What shall imperial conquest sway ? 
Where shall adorning genius stray ? 
Both pride and fear aspire to fly 
Where pure immortals never sigh : 
Eternity, they fondly say. 
May not behold that spark decay. 
Which, kindled by the breath of God, 
From Earth's probationary clod 
In rapture to the Sire returns. 
Or midst eternal torment burns. 
And so let pride and fear presume 
That worlds await beyond the tomb ; 
Thafj bright ethereal realms to range 
With seraphs ; this, to dread the change 
Which drags down to the Fiend's domain, 
Where sin unpardoned writhes in pain ; 
Yet timely penitence shall find 
That rest atoning Love designed. 
This much, at least, is daily shown^ 
That, though but little yet is known 
Authentic of the future state — 
Profoundest theme that men debate, 

Insolvable till death they meet, — 
If none but souls that never stray 
Find entrance where the blessed stay. 

Then those fair regions pure, replete 



16 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

With blissful life in endless course, 

Will not be thronged from human source. 

With undulary arching high 

Yon bold gulf from the bending sky 

Clasps the sun ; Spain's proud ensign furls 

On all her frowning works of war, 
As the huge gun of sunset hurls 

Its thunder far o'er coral bar. 
List! from each gray cathedral round 
The bells to vesper worship sound, 
Till distant with departing day 
There soulful music melts away. 

Forth from the harbor slowly glides 
A bark to breast the broadening tides; 
The Moro* passed, her course to lay, 
^ She points her bounding beak afar 
To lands toward the Arctic star. 
But half her flying force is spread ; 
Now half of that, reversed, has fled, 
As, heading to the murmuring beach, 
She pauses short of cannon reach : 
As yet, no loosened anchor's rush 
Disturbs the deepening twilight hush, 
Which argues but a brief delay 
Ere she resume her onward way. 
Consentive breeze and starry night 
Forth to the swift gulf stream invite, 
Propitious to her homeward flight, 
Then why on yonder soil is seen 
Dull hesitation's doubtful mein ? 



Moro cast'e, at entrance of Harbor. 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 

So richly laden, she may fear 
Encounter of the buccaneer; — 
That vulture of West Indian seas,^^ 
Black "Seahawk," eyried at Balize. 
Tho' fleeter sail than "Caroline" 
Flits not o'er billowy fields of brine, 
Well might she fear to risk the blow 
Of such a ne'er relenting foe, 
And bide beneath the castle guns 
Until the morning gives the sun's 
Protective eye, before whose view 
Vanish like sprites the pirate crew. 
But not the fear of buccaneer 
Has caused her faltering seaward course; 
Her smaller boat, now launched afloat. 
Rocks waiting — nerved with hardy force. 
Each resting on his ready oar — 
The sign to make the dusking shore. 

Reclining in the portico 

That looks toward departing day, 

While the day flowers enfold their hues, 

And flowers of night begin to blow, 

Reclining there, as if to muse 

Sweet Hesper's softening hour away. 

In earnest attitude is seen 

Eudora, rich as ripe eighteen 

In bloom of virgin loveliness; 

As your ideal's faultlessness, 

So winningly endowed is she, 

And of ennobled ancestry. 

Yet what avail the faultless face 



* At the time infested by pirates. 



18 THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 

And form, and movement full of grace, 

The shapely brow and sparkling eye, 

The regal state and lineage high, 

Ah, what avail eth all of these, 

Tho' well the gazing crowd they please. 

If crowning all we do not find 

The lovelier charms of heart and mind? 

As is some specious sunlit shore. 

Profuse of semblant fruit and flower. 

Where fadeless Spring with bahiiy breath 

Would seem to win his prey from Death, 

Forbidding time or toil to trace 

A furrow in the smiling face; 

Yet where no goodly life may dwell 

Among its scenes so fair, yet fell ; 

Where pilgrim foot has never trod. 

Nor anthem rose to nature's God ; 

A hfeless land of barren bloom, 

Or fruitage of the Dead Sea doom ; 

A fiendish blank in Universe, 

Deception's pageant, all perverse; 

Such is the highborn form ard fair 

If Christian virtues reign not there : 

Yet these bestow transcendent worth 

On poor estate and humble birth. 

And through the plainest features shine 

With fadeless beauty's ray divine. 

But thou, £udora, fair refined, 

Lily of beauty, soul of mind. 

What trancing thoughts pervade thee now, 

What warm emotion tints thy brow ? 

That sacred gem, so often pressed 

Unto thy frequent sighing breast; 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 19 

Thy lips, that seem to whisper love, 
And eyes, now earth bent, now above, 
More than devotion these express, 
More than the vesper tenderness 
The heart-pearls in thine eyes confess. 

EUDORA. 

This is the destinated hour 

That final leads my Carlos here, 

With whom I soon forsake the bower 

And friends of native home, most dear ; 

In silence loved, in secret wed, 

And, soon 'twill be, in darkness fled. 

Ah, well I knew my brother's pride 

Would brook not to be thus allied. 

Would sternly bade my Charles depart, 

Or plunged a poinard in his heart. 

Yet I can scarce this parting will ; 

Tho' rash, he is my brother still ; 

And though at times he seems austere, 

His heart is kind as pity's tear. 

Poor heart ! so true to Isabel, 

His long betrothed, who darkly fell. 

Snared in a soft seductive hour. 

While prudence slept, in passion's bower. 

Whom his swift vengeance could not save 

From a sorrowing self-sought grave 

Unblest — peace to the shrouding wave ! 

Nor bring oblivion of a love 

Seraphs themselves might well approve, 

Confiding, loyal, chaste, refined. 

Almost too high for human kind. 

Then would not he, whose heart enshrines 



20 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Love's fragrance, though the flower entwines 

No longer there, would he not bless 

Our union were we to confess ? 

Ah, pride, unreasoning pride might steel 

His heart against our hearts' appeal : 

So slight the hope, the doubt so great. 

To risk it were provoking fate. 

Then go I must, whate'er betide; 

Love leads away, and I confide, 

To Charles my peace, to God my fate ; 

'Tis now too late to hesitate, 

Which do I not, — he comes ; I hear 

His step; O, heart, thy lord is near! 

Charles. 

Dearest ! thy looks confess thou'rt sad ; 
I deemed this hour would find thee glad. 
Yet 'tis not strange if thou dost grieve, 
Thy cherished home and friends to leave ; 
Such fond regrets are justly due 
In farewell to the loved and true ; 
But know, with whom thou fliest will be 
More than left home and friends to thee ! 

EUDORA. 

Dear Carlos, no distrust can I 
Of his pledged faith with whom I fly : 
Risking the future's bliss or blame, 
All have I given for thy dear name. 
And at the sacred altar shown 
That I am thine, am all thine own ! 
Yet hear: Some mystic spell at night 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 2L 

Hath power on human soul to write 

Its future anguish or delight. 

To me in last night's slumber came 

That ancestor from whom our name. 

Dim was his look — as in eclipse 

The sun — yet on his curving lips 

Were scorn and wrath ; continuous then 

Advanced a march of mighty men ; 

Not equal were they to that chief, 

Less grand their glories, and more brief. 

All silently, but nearer, each 

Came, passing almost in my reach. 

Till, closing in the ghostly rear, 

My late-hearsed father frowned severe. 

In sullen dignity then stood 

The visionary brotherhood, 

Each with averted, angry look. 

And hand t'ward me denouncing shook. 

I would have spoken then, to know 

Why thus to me their censure show. 

But at my faint essay each shade 

Did point to an ensanguined blade 

Gleaming in a late spectre's hand, 

Near which another shade did stand, 

And a fresh streaming wound undrest 

Dyed vvith a dismal stain each breast. 

Then soon each recent shade a place 

Assumed with that presential race. 

My gaze attracted to each face 

Till plain the features grew, and I, 

At last in shrieking agony, 

That the heart-chilling vision broke, 

With dread presentiment awoke. 



22 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

But long the vanished scene did seem 
Too sternly real for a dream ; 
Nor till broad morning brightly shone 
Could I believe my self alone; 
Alone not even then ; around 
Me still the grim phantasma frowned. 
Nor could the thought, supremely sweet, 
That soon at Hymen's fane we'd meet. 
Nor yet that consummative hour, 
With all the rite's impressive power, 
As hand in hand with thee I knelt, 
While the grey father's were outspread 
In benediction on each head, 

Not all could chase the gloom I felt ; 
Still near the haunting kindred kept, 
And — thou didst note how then I wept ? 

Charles. 

I did, nor could the cause divine, 
For well I knew thy heart was mine. 
My own Eudora, do not let 
Such sadness haunt thy soul — forget ! 
Think of those far, inviting bowers, 
Where thou, amid their fairest flowers, 
Wilt far outvie the queen of May ; 
Come — with the wings of love, away ! 

Eudora. 

I go. Nor do I fear, when o'er 
The sea I'm on a stranger shore. 
That thou wilt there a stranger be. 
Inconstant prove, or cold to me. 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 23 

Tho's said those maidens charm the view, 

With sunny tresses, azure eye, 
Cheeks of the sweet pink's changeful hue, 

Lips whence young loves to conquest fly, 
Brows beamy with a mental light, 
Forms where the graces all unite; 
And I have heard they far excel 
In weaving love's betwitching spell. 

Charles. 

And have you heard their love is brief. 
Fleets ere their summer's fading leaf ? 
Mere beauty's like morn's flaunting flower, 
That purpled pleasure of an hour ; 
Bedecked by momentary gem. 

It scorns the humble blooms beneath ; 
Vain of its swift-ascending stem, 

That clasps the corn with spiral wreath ; 
But when the exalted sumbeams fling 

Pervading heat on field and grove, 
Before the bee's capricious wing 

Through half the expanded sweets can rove. 
Shrinking from the bright glare of day. 
The Mornivg-glory wilts away, 
Veils her frail face, and bows her head, 

Humbled ; nor can her withered wreath 

One fragrant farewell sigh bequeath 
As a memento of the dead. 
Such is elusive beauty's dower — 
Frail favorite of a fickle hour ! 
So pines she in forsaken bower, 
While but a melancholy wreck 



24 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Remains of features once so fair, 
Beyond modistic skill to deck. 
The prey of petulant despair. 

EUDORA. 

'Tis true; and warns that we should not 

For perishable gifts neglect 
Enduring charms by virtue brought, 

Insuring age from disrespect. 
But thou of woman's love did speak 
As though 'twere volatile and weak — 
Skeptic! No language may express 
Her love's entire devotedness. 

Nor say, that only where the rose, 
Love's garlandry, perpetual blows. 
Say not that only there abides 

The female heart to love devote : 
I know, that where bleak Winter chides 

Approaching Spring with surliest note, 
That there her deeds her truth approve, 
I'm sure — for woman's life is love. 

Charles. 

Well has thy advocacy told 

Of greater worth than gems and gold, 

And I no skeptic shall appear 

In this — the pleader is sincere. 

But hist ! some one observes. 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 25 

EUDORA. 

'Tis he, 
I fear, whom now we should not see. 

Charles. 

Then haste ! The sea swift CaroHne 
Awaits to waft thee, lady mine ! 
And wind and wave and veiling night 
Combine to bid and bless our flight. 

Alarmed, they now with wary speed 
Depart, and to the street proceed : 
Eudora turns a lingering view 
To the old home, and sighs adieu, 
As to her heart affectingly 
Appeals full many a memory. 

Dusky their way. Grim Mora's height 
Emits a weird revolving light. 
Dark the Puenta.^ Dim and afar 
At intervals is seen a star, 
As clouds invasive of the sky 
Portend the tropic tempest nigh, — 

As sudden springing on the bay 

As tree-couched panthress on her prey : 
Yet seaward still the lovers fly. 
With silent s<-eps that fleetly fall 
They near the Puenta's warlike wall, 
And near beyond for them await 
A boat, four mariners, and mate. 
Soon on the channeled coral tread 
The hastening pair with less'ning dread, 



*Foriification opposite the Moro. 



26 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

For a few paces more will free 
Them from pursuit, if such there be; 
And bolder now the mutual breast 
Expanding thrills, so nearly blest. 

Like adder roused by heedless tread, 
Or venomed arrow ambush sped, 
So, rushing from the treach'rous rock, 

A direly daring form is seen 
Assailing Charles with eager shock ; 

Eudora, shrieking, springs between, — 
"Hold! spare him — brother, dread Miguel! 
His wife am I — Oh do not kill!" 
Vainly ! The frantic steel has gone 
To her devoted breast alone; 
As instantly the bridegroom's hand 
Strikes down the brother to the strand, 
Then clasps his fainting, falling bride, 
Striving to stay life's gushing tide. 
Sad darkness shrouds the scene of crime, 
And all is hushed a little time, 
Till he, whose fury none would spare, 
In bitterness upbraids the pair: 

Miguel. 

And ye are married ? Still too fast. 
Yet all too slow — as in the past — 
Have I been ! At the portico 
I heard ye when prepared to go. 
Thus gathered your intent, no more. 
But hastened hither to the shore. 
Because I would not shame our place 
By blood of guest — too much disgrace ! 
Degraded sister ! last and least 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 27 

Of an illustrious line deceased, 
Thy claim to ruth were small, had hand 
Other than mine impelled the brand. 
For thee not meant, but one who now 
Had else released thee from thy vow, 
Most unadvised, that would have wrought 
Shame with our honored name, and brought 
Thyself to share a vagrant's lot. 
O thou injurious foreigner, 
Vain freedom-boaster, base-whelped cur, 
The meanest minion of a king 
Compared to thee's a noble thing ! 
I hate thee and thy restless race 
Impertinent and void of grace. 
Of ideas few and ill defined. 
Poor products of a meager mind 
Dwarfed down, confined within a clod, 
By gross selflove, the groveler's god : 
Sprung from the spite of Europe's worst 
Apostate heretics accurst, 
To savage regions self-expelled. 
Where soon they peevishly rebelled. 
Their factions by fresh forces swelled 
Of such as loathe all discipline. 
Whether it be of God or men ; 
Hence, left their projects to pursue. 
Their pert republic sprang to view, — 
A polity where miUions moil 
While demagogues divide the spoil. 
That boasts its broad democracy 
While scheming aristocracy. 
Such government must soon decay 
And fall, some Caesar's facile prey; 



28 THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 

For freedom will not long remain 
To guard the land whose god is gain, 
Where soul-seducing lust of gold 
Begets the baseness to be sold. 

But thoji! though far from reprobate, 
I hate thee with such ravenous hate 
As all thy blood would fail to sate ; 
Not for thy blow — I could admire 
Thy promptitude — but thy desire 
To blend ignoble blood and name 
With old Castile's of laureled fame. 

Charles. 

My country grandly stands alone, 
The dread of every tottering throne ; 
vShe makes the cause of man, her cause. 
And, by her just and liberal laws, 
The good from every region draws ; 
Vast in resource, by union strong. 
She gives no insult, brooks no wrong. 

But /am wronged, thou son of pride t 
More wronged is she who bleeds beside, 
Whom I espoused but for her own 
Pure, peerless self, and that alone. 

I little value wealth or fame 
When won, as oft, by deeds of blame, 
And less the insolence of birth, 
That arrogance of others' worth : 
Intrinsic worth ennobles, not 
Illustrious line nor lordly lot : 
But strip their gilded state away. 
Some kings might prove of common clay 
As any varlet whom they sway : 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 29 

As noble hands have reaped the field 
As any sword or scepter wield, 
And honor points to many a man 
Whose life in labor's hut began, 
For well the toilers still retain 
The generous heart, ingenious brain. 

Miguel. 

Yet even then 'tis blood gives tone. 
Which may have slept awhile unknown, 
Till circumstance and innate fire 
Aroused to deeds that men admire. 
No streams flow upward from their founts, 
No scoundrel's son to glory mounts; 
From ostrich egg no eaglet springs, 
Though incubate 'neath eagle wings; 
Eagle mates eagle, not with hawk ; 
No prince should spouse of subject stock, 
Nor simple plowman wish to wed 
With gentle maiden city bred — 
As if some spriteful bird of song 
Could quit the sunny garden throng. 
To mate the tiresome whipporwill 
In lonesome forests, dim and chill! 
Each should observe his proper place 
Of station, aptitude, and race. 
Thus have I reasoned oft before 
In converse by the breezy shore. 
When convalescence led thy feet 
To seek that orange-shaded seat, 
Where thou didst love to lean, and view 
Thy peoples' pennons swarm the blue — 
Mere merchantmen, of sordid strain. 



30 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Roaming the world in quest of gain, 
As cormorants infest the main. 

Had I advised thy voyage then, 
This tragic parting had not been; 
But then my friendship would not deem 
Thou couldst aspire above esteem. 

Charles. 

Thou art aware I sought this shore 
In hope its mildness would restore 
My wasting health ; how first we met. 
When she and thou were hard beset 
By brutes, at evening promenade, 
And knew a stranger's timely aid; 
How thence acquaintance ripening grew, 
By pleasing intercourse, to true 
Regard — and fleet those fair hours flew. 
Till, stricken by the yellow fiend. 
That lonely stranger found a friend, 
Of ready skill and rapid proof. 
Beneath thy spacious, kindly roof. 

O, then, when through my dizzy brain 
Whirled fever's mad tormenting train. 
How pure Eudora's palm repressed 
The demon dance and gave m^e rest ! 
And, though thy serious art was sure, 
Her smiling care confirmed the cure. 
Such care becomes a sister well, 
Bjt mine was where no care may dwell — 
So soon she vanished from the earth 
My young heart scarce discerned her worth ; 
Yet fond remembrance oft will turn 
To clasp sweet Jane's untimely urn. 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 31 

And linger there to muse upon 

Parents and sister long since gone. 

Had she been living then, and there, 

My need had craved no other care. 

And were her spirit here, 'twould bless 

Eudora's Christian carefulness; 

For 'tis but Christianly to grace 

A dead or absent sister's place, 

And thine did nothing more, nor less. 

So well did she the place supply, 

So dear her precious presence grew. 
So winning was her gracious air, 

All heart was I when she was nigh ! 
My pulses -thrilled with life anew, 

Inspiring hope and day-dreams fair! 
That gratitude to love may grow. 
And pity warm to love's soft glow, 
Till both accord, is said to prove 
How blamelessly began our love ; 
And blameless still its course had run 
When holy rite affirmed us one ] 
And though I thought it best concealed 
Awhile from thee, 'twas her to shield ; 
For, though I knew thee free from guile, 
And bounteous as this beaming Isle, 
I also knew thy haughty mind. 
And thy quick anger, O how blind ! 

Miguel. 

Thy hand ! — for love and d-ath, I see. 
Are levellers of all degree. 
Thy hand! I would forgive, and know 
Return, and peace, before I go — 



32 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Whither? Death soon — too soon! — may show- 
That hopeless region doomed to dire 
Remorse, the ever-during fire 
And worm. O, could I but retrace 
The past, and from its page erase 
Regretted deeds recorded there, 
Or hide them with a page more fair ! 
Of others' deeds I could complain 
For many a wound to heart and brain : 
Time might have measured iheir relief; 
My self-dealt wounds are now my grief. 
Yes ! other wounds may heal, but these. 
Neglected, run to soul-disease. 
Which time heals not; repentance may, 
If not 'till death we stretch delay : 
But now my own repentant state, 
I fear, comes all too late, too late ! 

EUDORA. 

Brother, forbear ! enough, our woes. 
Without thy dread, despairing close. 
The wretch that on the cross implored 
Was granted pardon and reward ; 
So thou, dejected brother, pray 
In faith and overcome dismay ; 
And, as I place within thy palm 
This cross, may pardoning Mercy calm 
Thy anguish ! If thou heedest — speak ! 
Ah, breathless lips and clammy cheek 
With deathly silence make reply ! 
Yet I will trust he did not die 
Uncomforted ; for he did clasp 
The precious emblem close, and gasp, 



THOUGHTS IN VEBSE. 33 

As if he heard, and strove to say 
That all was well ; so passed away. 

Dear Charles I I too am passing ; soon 
Of all Earth's multitudes no boon 
Taking, or asking, only this 

Of thee only, that thou wilt wear 
This cross — dear mother's gift — and kiss 

When solitude and memory share 
Retrospect of this grevious hour. 
Appealing to that pitying Power 
Who knows what griefs poor mortals bear, 
And lets no supplicant despair. 

Then shall Eudora hover nig:h, 
Responded to thy prayerful sigh. 
Thy sister friend, as once before, 
Thy spirit-love, but bride no more, 
To win thee to a worthier shore. 

So, not too long nor deeply mourn 
The fell mischance this night has borne. 
Nor feel that we have loved in vain ; 
Full surely we shall meet again ! 

Charles. 

My sorrow wears a darker mood, 
I lack thy saintly fortitude ; 
I must not, will not, leave thee so, 
And henceforth bear upbraiding woe. 
Eudora, come ! I'll waft thee hence 
To years of loving recompense ! 

Eudora. 

Ah, fate denies thy fond request, 

And something whispers now, 'tis best ; 



34 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

For God doth order all things well 
For them whose hearts no more rebel. 
What we had been, 'twere vain to muse; 
What thou mayst be, is thine to choose ; 

may thy choice insure thee bliss ! 

Now take our first — our farewell kiss. 
And fly at once this periled place : — 

1 faint — I die — in thy embrace ! 
From death — to life — I 



Peace, O peace, 

Mad waves ! your strife a moment cease ; 
In pity let him hear her last 
Faint, fleeting, farewell tone. 'Tis past — 
Silent — the voice that soothed his heart : — 
Wretch ! lay thy lost one down — depart ! 

The sentry, pacing Puenta's wall. 
Had heard Eudora's shrieking call. 
And to the guardroom gave alarm, 
That bade a file for duty arm. 
Now, tardily, as loth to dare 
The threatning storm, and needless bear 
Its brunt, with time-beat tramp, and arms 
Whose angry martial clank alarms, 
They come. He heeds, as from the dead 
At last he lifts his hopeless head. 
That lately love-illumined face — 

Her lips which, though their tuneful breath 
Be fled, smile sweetness still in death, 
His own in wild despair embrace ; 
Then on the crimsoned rock he lays 
The loved, unconscious form, yet stay? 
Lingering, to look a last farewell — 
"What have we here — who are ye? — tell! " 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 35 

The sergeant claims, " Surrender— stand ! " 
Beware! — the pointed deaths surround ! 
One glance— a sigh— a sudden bound 
That frees him flying to the strand- 
Some hasty shot pursue, in vain — 
He springs aboard— they row amain. 

Where Campo Santo* cedars gloom 
O'er walls where many a kindred bone 
And many a cross in dust are strown, 

Unnoted stands Eudora's tomb; 
Yet on that consecrated ground 
Shall never fairer form be found, 
Nor sweeter saint by bHss be crowned : 
And one is smoldering near beside, 
Fierce heir of stern, ancestral nride, 
Rash brother of that victim bride. 
Near by that solemn place of sleep 
Perpetual moans the restless deep, 
That, when for midnight anthem tolls 
Death's bell, its deeper dirges rolls : 
And pallid SuJDerstition there. 
With plaintive voice and dreary air, 
To her awed train at wan twilight 
Repeats the terrors of that night. 
The shriek— the death— the desperate flight ; 
And still, at every shuddering pause, her eye 
Slow searches 'round, as if their ghosts were nigh. 

That night long since has passed away, 
And beauty's tresses turned to gray. 
And beauty's self to shapeless clay. 
Yet still its fugitive drags on, 



*Place of sepulture, Havana. 



36 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

His earthly hopes and passions gone. 

Yes, time may bloom as fair a flower 
As that which blest his youthful hour, 
In all as lovely, pure and true, 
As charming to impartial view, 
But ne'er could he that flower caress. 
Or view with more than Hstlessness; 
Yet, if a tender thought he gave, 
T'would be for one he failed to save, 
And wake to pain his chastened sighs. 
And dim his deeply pensive eyes. 

For perished flower and fruitless years 
His sighs were vain, in vain his tears. 
Were not the guardian saints addressed, 
Were not that farewell gift caressed : 
'Tis then her influence hovers near, 
Serene, with sainted love to cheer, 
To lull his heart to balmy rest, 
And soul illume by visions blest, — 
Gleams from that evershining shore 
Where the true meet to part no more. 
Thus love and faith in pious mood 
Anticipate beatitude. 
Havana, Cuba, May, 1841. 



^YENDUE,*? 



At this visit Miss Muse was en deshabille,* 
Yet she smilingly beckoned, ''admissible!" 
For she's but a frank little wildwood maid. 
And we often together in childhood played; 
As blithe as the birds were our rovings then 
In Nature's free gardens of grove and glen, 
Where, culling wild flowers of varient dye, 
We wove them in garlands, sweet Airie and I. 
O now for the charms of that childhood hour. 
The innocent joys in the wildwood bower ! 
Yet I sometimes meet with their beaming band. 
Where the bygones greet, in the dreaming land. 

"All have a price " of eld is the thought. 

Most modern knowledge is but the gleam 
Reflected of ancient wisdom's beam — 
" But bid their price, and the best may be bought." 
Yet as various their prices as heart can desire. 
Antagonist, too, as water and fire. 

Though brokers and bankers officiate for gold. 
'Tis likely that they've little wish to be '• sold ; " 
And so, from the priests of the mettaline god; 
To the devotees now let the paradox plod. 

*In allusion to the uneven, slipshod movement of the verse. 



38 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Hoarse for gold is the demagogue's throat, 
And gilded each face of his candidate coat : 
The president pilots the ship of State 
With eager eye to the golden gate ; 
Recks he if after wreck be her fate ? 

The shrewishest maid a wife is made, 
If her dowerbox boast good golden store,- 
While the indigent beauty's the elegant booty 
Of Shoddiben Bonds in his youth of four-score. 

Ah, that the maidenly Muses, too. 
Should ever unveil in that vile vendue, 
Where their delicate draperies are trampled and torn, 
And their spiritous beauty the gaze of gross scorn. 

The ''bread of Hfe," too, in the same vendue 
Is put up together with the costliest pew, 
In that sumptuous fane at whose portal grand 
Needy sinners suffering stand, 
Famishing ipendicants, young and old. 
Perishing penitents, pale and cold, 
While the bell in the belfry mocks, ''gold — gold 

sold— sold!" 
But that is Satan's bid ; let Satan deplore — 
Could he but pray 'twould avail him far more — 
For another hath bidden, bidden and paid, 
A bidder so poor " no place for his head." 
Though dewy his meek, compassianing eyes, 
Satan and Death the Martyr defies — 
For man ! O, Infinite Sacrifice ! 
The angels sing, the glories they sing 
Of the crucified Brother, Reedeemer and King, 
And the stars glow praise, in rejoicings bright, 
For the sister* restored to celestial Light. 

Lo, along the various ways of life, 

* Earth ransomed and purified. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 39 

Through scenes of splendor — squalor — strife, 

Of even step and brow serene 

The "good Samaritan" is seen; 

Whenever human woes appear, 

His hands relieve, his counsels cheer; 

His robe from stain of lucre free, 

Christ's almoner on earth is he. 

" Claims he reward ? " He does, and should — 

The luxury of doing good. 

See Mammon's slave, who knows not ruth 
For others' woe, — whose wintry youth 
Scowls grasping greeds' o'erclouded brow, 
Harsh corrugated by care's plow, — 
Whose niggard grasp almost denies 
Meagre necessity supplies — 
As if God's bounties were not sent 
To be enjoyed and give content ! — 
Whose widest wish is sordid self. 
And highest heaven his heaped-up pelf. 

Man's life, whether rich or poor, tedious or fleeting, 
This oft-told truth is ever repeating. 
And its saddening lesson the youthful must learn, 
Venal the world, wherever we turn. 
Aye, even the hearts that with fresh loves yearn. 
Pure as the pearls Morn's lillies hold. 
Loves far more precious than station or gold, 
Are prey to the schemes of the covetous old, — 
As if wealth could prove an anodyne, 
Its heart-pearl lost, for the ravaged shrine ! 
Like opening rosebuds nipt by frost. 
Pining for bloom and fragrance lost, 
Is pure young love by avarice crost. 

Who says this nation is lucre-mad. 
That its freedom for infamous gain may be had ? 



40 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

From necessity many, but more from design, 
What a host are the vassals of Mammon malign 
Yes, taxes and toil, dark poverty's doom, 
The mine and the forge, the plow and the loom, 
Yield grandeur and gold, yield fruits and perfume, 
That miser's may hoard and profligates squander, 
While weary the workers in wretchedness ponder. 
Shame ! That Columbia's bountiful shores 
Should know the extremes that true wisdom deplores. 
Where Labor lies starving near Mammon's swollen 

stores. 
Alas, what shall such stores avail 
The dwellers supine in the desolate pale ! 
There, fame's a mere fable, life's gain but dead loss. 
Gloomy is grandeur, and gold but dull dross, 
Forbidden at Charon's cold ferry to cross. 
There, nothing to them are sunshine and showers. 
Or warbling of birds amid blossoming bowers. 
If the Seasons glide on in their annular flow. 
Or the ice-king involve them in shrouding of snow. 
They know not — Shall ever they know 1 
To them, but a blank is the volume of life. 
With its glory, its gain, its sin and its strife : 
Love's adulant lute, the battlefield's roar, 
Nor modern-bound tome, nor the Book of dim yore, 
Shall delight them, alarm, or instruct, any more. 
Under the willows profoundly they slumber, 
Evermore resting, no cares to encumber ; 
Under the willows, low drooping and pale, 
Their's but the fate that o'er all must prevail. 
'Tis toldhj their tombstones, moss overgrown. 
By airs that the bent boughs ever tone 
To a solemn, slow, funereal tone : 
'Tis seen in the morning's transient queen 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 41 

Wasting away from the solar sheen : 
When the noontide Orb's relentless glow 
Glares on the feverish world below, 
In the mirage see?i by the desert-lost, 
As the luring views his faint steps mock, 
And his last straining nerve exhaust, — 
Then fade, nor leave even hope a rock : 

In the picturesque scenes on yon sunset shore, 
By inimitable pencil drawn. 
Where the tranced young Moon bends gazing o'er 
The dissolving splendors that form no more. 

The gorgeous pageant for the monarch gone. 
Evanishing thus, earthly glory's array : 
And the serfs that serve and the lords who sway 
So pass from their places to swift decay, 
Thronging together that dusty highway 
Which leads his guests to the pale king's board, 
Where the beggar's at feast^ with the haughtiest lord. 
Shall, in that vast chamber commingling, lie down 
The wealthy, the poor, the sage and the clown ; 
For the feeble no more are the strong ones' sport 
There, in that plain king's equal court. 
There Envy's eyes no bale-shafts dart. 
Nor Ennui sighs from the surfeited heart ; 
For the mystical phosphor-phantoms, met 
At their cairn when Night's mid watch is set. 
Are the all of Poverty, Pride and Power, 
These transient tenants of an earthly hour. 
March, 1868. 



•■= ' ' Not where he eats but is eaten. "—Shakespeare's Hamlet, Act 
IV, Scene 3d. 



-^THE TEMPTER.* 



%^ 



Come, muse, and let us range an hour. 
To note an all-pervasive power, 
Inciter of each sentient thing, 
Sweet pleasure's source, pure virtue's spring, 
Alike for peasant, priest and king, — 
Than which, when scorning reason's ray, 
No fouler fiend pollutes the day ; 
Or subtler, from supernal light, 
Lured angels down to endless night ; 
Or fiercer, on a condemned world, 
Perditions vengeful terrors hurled. 

First should appropriate numbers tell. 

How once, well pleased awhile to dwell 

Where flowers most exquisitely fair. 
And most delicious fruits, and rare. 
Glowed of the Father's bounteous power, -^ 

Oft in the Garden wont to thronsc 
Celestial visitants, and bower 

With blissful bower, delightful song 
Responding, vied in gracious greeting, 
Sweet Echo's shell each air repeating : 

How he, admired and honored then 

By minds angelic, first of men, 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. tH 

Pre-eminently formed and blest, — 
First sighed, when some emotive guest. 
At moonlit hour, in witching measure 
Sang peerless love, sang blushing pleasure. 

Then his first sense of loneliness. 
His wish for one, than angel less. 
By close companionship to bless ; 
When soon, this first-born want to scan, 
Deep musing, through the kindling man 
In a transporting fervor ran 
Emotion — fierce ethereal fire 
Flashed in his veins, and young Desire 
Sprang from his heart. 

Forth then, supreme 

In beatuty, lovely as a dream, 
Or vision of beatitude. 
Flush to his gaze the Tempkr stood, 
Triumphandy, — still o'er his Race 
Triumphs, our glory or disgrace. 

Unnumbered protean shapes he wears, 
As various are the names he bears ; 
Unnumbered winning wiles he knows. 
As various as the views he shows ; 
Of half to tell were effort vain 

As aim to number Fashion's changes. 
Or California's golden grain, 

Or mazy multitude that ranges 
Ambrosial Flora's vast domain. 

The germ of budding hope his power 
Expands to passion's glowing flower. 

In quest of life's consummate good. 
As this by each is understood 
Its crowning unalloyed delight. 



44 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

With more than fleeting splendor bright, 
He bids exhaust the land, the wave, 
Then map new worlds beyond the grave. 
He sways the universal mind 
In empire endless, unconfined : 
Yea, wisdom^ cased in crown or cowl, 

Scarce finds exemption by quick flight 
From his bright presence, — as the owl 

Fhes from the dazzling lord of light. 
He plans Ambition's stateliest schemes ; 
He prompts slow Science by bold dreams 
On Shinar's plain — misdeed sublime ! 
He led that high attempt to climb 
By earth-based tower the upper sky. 
And destiny and flood defy. 

Lo, to invade the realms of snow, 
Brave Franklin arms the daring prow ; 
Such task a nation's honors claim, 
And Science courts his worthy name. 
Then home and friends he bids adieu. 
And wife^ the truest of the true ; 
Next, Albion quick recedes from view 
Beyond the blue uparching tides. 
As the bold expedition rides 
Out on the billowy world afar, 
Hastening to hail the Arctic star. 
Approving winds their wings confer 
To speed the noble mariner, 
And merrily sing the ocean swells, 
Flashed by the flying caravels. 
That sea-born melody so dear 
To every genuine sailor's ear. 
While many a yarn by Jack is spun 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. "^^ 

Of marvels seen and dangers run 
Since when his rover race begun ; 
And fond Anticipation's sheen 
Fore-gilds far regions yet unseen 
Of wild and wonderful and grand : 
Thus days to weeks and months expand 
Nearing a dim mysterious land. 
At length, the open main is crost ; 
And soon the narrowing sea is lost 
In labyrinths of floating frost. 
The roads of commerce far behind, 
They onward still and nor' ward wind ; 
Till stunted shrub and scraggy strand 
Show less and rare on either hand ; 
Till scowling skies, of leaden hue, 

Warn, and the water's fading blue ; 

While through dim ice-vaults phantoms fly, • 

And sounds unearthly boding sigh. 
Now rugged Esquimaux chiefs stare 

To hear how far Sir John would dare. 

And kindly counsel, '' Pause -beware ! 

Nor hope mere mortal may explore 

Yon darker sky and deadlier shore. 

Turn ! — backward search the closing way 

To some less bleakly dangerous bay, 

More spacious hearths and broader day." 

Replies the dauntless Franklin, " No ! 

This purpose halts for ice nor snow, 

Nor sullen signs above, below — 

On ! till our prows exultant glide 

Free on the crested Polar tide." 

Long, dreary moon-months wane, — for here 

No changing seasons mete the year. 



46 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Nor genial suns the wide waste cheer ; 
But an unpitying fate severe 
Prisons the infant rays of light 
In one eternal spectral night, 
Where Desolation guards his throne, 
Forever frowning, listening, lone. 
These dismal regions all his own. 

Yet, " On— still on ! " The toilful course, 
Obstinate, tasks the crew's full force; 
But ''On!" The close-contested way 
'Mid clashing crags that toppling sway ; 
Where solveless snows accumulate, 
And ponderous ice-fields ocean freight; 
Where man hath ventured ne'er before. 
Where few may follovv ever more. 

But now fatigue and cold assert 
Their laws. The seamen, long alert, 
Droop by degrees, enerved, inert, 
And, one by one, with hopeless heart 
Fall by the frost-fiend's numbning dart; 
They first, the inured seamen, sink. 

While nurtured men, defiant still, 
Linger debating on the brink. 

Delaying fate by lordly will. 

As thoughts of home their bosoms fill. 
Yet these at last submit to doom. 
And sink o'erwhelmed amid the gloom ; 
Then he, disdaining selfish stay. 
Their loved chief, follows them away ; 
A twilight world their common tomb. 
Forbidding local date and name ; 
Their elegy, a mournful fame. 

Thus, unavailing lore to gain. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 47 

Lamented Franklin fell in vain, 
Lost in the Tempter's victim-train. 

His are the hateful deeds of strife : 
He points the d^rk assassin's knife, 
Incites mad hosts to fratricide, 
And prompts by brutal Conquest's side ; 
Then, Hell's infuriate harvest won 
In fields of havoc reeking dun, 
He o'er the scenes, accurst and gory, 
A glamor spreads— fools call it "glory." 
'Twas he impelled that savage sword, 
That moubter evermore abhorred, 
Who, winging wide his hybrid troop. 
Fell harpies in rapacious swoop. 
Raged o'er a fair defenseless land 
With devastating, ruthless brand, 
Till Hope and Mercy fled afar. 
And, quenched in blood, sank Freedom's star. 

Where thousands throng, but seldom greet ; 

Where eddying streams of traffic flow 
Dense through the surging, sounding street ; 

Where wealth and pleasure, want and woe, 
Are rife, an ever-clashing host, 
To shame that '■'■ progress^^ moderns boast; 
Where guileless virtue dwells, — and then, 
Adjacent, putrid vice hath den ; 
Where moral life, w^here mental skill. 
Aspire to pure perfection still; 
Where springs forth many a specious plan. 
Prolific in its bane to man — 
This mixed and mighty human wave 
Onsweeping to the gulfy grave, — 



48 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

This famed Metropolis, and grand, 
That boasts on either crescive hand 
A tribute ocean, subject land, — 
What can so temptingly invite 
The Tempter, or his stay requite ? 

Where millionaires most congregate, 
There he presides in tyrant state; 
No prince or prelate near so proud. 

No orient nabob half so grand; 
To him are haughtiest magnates bowed, 

Earth's treasures wait his high command; 
His smile elates, his frown dismays, 
And nearest Fate his fiat sways. 

■ His is the gaudy gilt saloon, 
Where glittering midnight mimics noon ; 
Where Fortune's giddying wheel is rolled 
Mid madding heaps of mocking gold; 
Where pictured nymphs in gauzy dress 
More than forbidden books express; 
Where youths the fiendful goblet drain, 
Which cheats the heart, consumes the brain, 
And to hell hurls the soul amain. 

Once he a noted pulpit filled, 
And by apostate tenets thrilled 
The grasping, giddy, vain and vile. 
Who sought plain conscience to beguile. 
He spake in serio-comic strain. 
He gestured in theatric vein ; 
Pert mountebank and portly preacher, 
He soon became the worshipped teacher 
And universal over-reacher. 
With diabolic eloquence, 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 49 

And more than Satan's impudence, 

He said : " Who deems your bible true ? 

You need new god and bible, too, 

Conferring sovereign sweep to draw 

Great moral ideas higher law ! " 

To heaven he planned a broader road 

Than Paine or Voltaire ever trode, 

A facile way, all fancy-wrought, 

That saint nor martyr ever sought. 

He preached a love, more lewd than lust, 

And law. to license deeds unjust : 

In Church, he bred consuming schism; 

In State, a mongrel communism. 

Then some, of sense and training true. 

With sad foreboding thence withdrew, 

While knaves and dupes in glad accord 

Embraced his creed, " No hell, no Lord." 

But now of this care he has none. 

He hath so many an able son, 

Of whom that ever-meddling brood 

Of heretics, polite, or rude. 

That on the afflicted world obtrude. 

Mere infidels may be reclaimed, 
Yea ! even angels that rebel, 

But hypocrites are sureliest damned 
Of all that sin outside of hell. 

In that superbly social scene, 
Which chastely shows as snowy sheen. 
Where poHshed leisure loves to shine. 
And virtue, beauty, wit, combine 
To lend the hour an air divine ; 
E'en f/iere, in friendship's sacred mien 
The Tempter glides, a graceful guest, 



50 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Heart-welcomed even by the best. 
Some special compliment to pay, 
He knows, some charming thing to say, — 
Ah ! when his whispered sweets she hears, 
Young Innocence forgets her fears, 
Forgets dire warnings daily taught 
By many a straying sorrower's lot. 
Daughters of Eve ! forbid the hour 
That brings this flatterer near your bower. 
His eyes, like charming serpents', play, 
And fascinate the fluttering prey ; 
His smiles, like meteors in the brake, 
Mislead the trusting, then — forsake; 
His touch dissolves the zone of grace, 
And shrouds in shame the fairest face ; 
His favors end in night and storm, 
In soul debased and blighted form ; 
Then chill remorse and fear assail 
The fall'n, despair, and terror pale 

Sisters in beauty's dangerous dower ! 
By watchful prayer avert the hour 
Would place you in that foeman's power : 
Rely not on obsequious guards. 
Prone to betray for his rewards, 
But still that monitor attend, 
Which, next to Heaven, is truest friend. 

Now, final of our theme, excursive muse, 
Turn from the town's inviting — adverse, views, 
To where, mid yonder festal sylvan scene, 
Enamored walks a youth, whose free, frank mien, 
Broad breast and ample brow, that tower above 
The crowd, might please the choicest lady's love. 
See ! clinging to his arm in loving guise 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 51 

A buxom beauty with audacious eyes, 

That dance and sparkle with glamouring glee, 

Exultant of the conquest soon to be. 

That youth is near infatuate, and thinks 
Not from a fell enchantress' cup he drinks, — 
For the designing fair one ever blinds 
Her object's reason ere himself she binds. 

My son — my son, more dear than terms can tell, 
Beware— beware the temptress' subtle spell ! 
Gaze not, thou honest, open-hearted boy, 
On fascinations luring to destroy : 
Be blind to artificial beauty, deaf 
To her dissembling notes of joy or grief; 
Break through the sly Arachne's selfish wiles, 
Avoid her, heedless of her frowns and smiles. 
Gay widow, she ! for all her piteous sigh, 
Her weeds of woven midnight, glistening eye, 
And oft allusions to that former " fly," 
"Her dear departed one, so true, so kind, 
Oh ne er more shall she perfection find ! " 
And then she archly hints of passion's birth 
In Croesus' sons, that strove to win her worth 
By rival gifts of jeweled, generous gold ; 
But then — " those fools \NtrQ widowers, and old; 
And holily her priceless pearl she's kept. 
And ne'er will wed again — except — except ! " 

O son, my own impulsive, wayward boy, 
Hope of our age, thy gentle mother's joy. 
Desist ! Wouldst thou thy parents' peace destroy, 
And all thy youth's fair prospects rashly cloud. 

To be a heartless vixen's lifelong slave ? 
Discreetly mate, or evermore defer; 
O, ask no nuptial chamber drest for her ! 



52 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Far less the pain to wrap his timeless shroud, 
And yield, bereaved, our darling to the grave. 

Now must the panorama close — 
These slight suggestions, curt and crude, 
For plastic genius' graphic mood, — 
Good-night ! alike to friends and foes, 
To hours of pain-eluding-!^ quest, 
Imagined scene and visioned guest; 
Here farewell all, — but hope of rest. 

1871. 



The writer was suffering from a painful accident. 



giRRIER'g ADDREgg,*^ 



Of the Lexington Appeal, Januakv i, 1848. 

The dwindled days, the tedious nights, 
Dispose the bard to fancy's flights; 
The closing year, the cheerful fire, 

The ardent wish to wing a sermon 

To edify our cousins german — 
These hint the theme and help inspire. 

Now, lo, with what a stealthy mein 
The old year slides behind the screen. 
As if that pack upon his shoulder 

Were Avith our choicest treasures stown, 
And he in dread lest some beholder 

Should there espy and claim his own. 
Stop thief! — a moment let us look 
Into that pack. What's here — a book? 
" 'Tis nothing else ! " and written o'er 
With names, we think, ten thousand score, 
And deeds, full twice ten millions more. 
Cute clerk — sly chronicler — old spy ! 
Thou, by the rules of war, shouldst die. 
Why, what a host of bitter charges 



54 THO UGHTS IN VERSE. 



Against mankind we herein view — 
Most slanderous, all, if he enlarges. 

But ah, for all how sad, if true ! 
For, in the \ olume of the year, 
But few redeeming deeds appear, 
And these of such a dubious kind 
As show the actor's wavering mind ; 
Mere things of craft and compromise, 
Whereby we sought to blind the skies, 
And from our errors turn their eyes. 
Yetlet us read a few — the best, 
And see how well they stand the test: — 
' ' Most glorious victory by Taylor ! "-'^ 

Wherein at fivefold odds he beat 
Our Sister, f forced her courage fail her, 

And fly, — as flies a herd of neet 
When sweeps the fire athwart the prairie 

In broadening blaze and fierce career, 

With stormy speed and front of fear, — 
" O 'twas a glorious victory," — very! 
For which — shght recompense! — 'tis meant 
To make him our next President. 
" Another victory, by Scott, 
Wherein at e^ual odds he fought," 
As, on each ancient height arrayed, 
A shadowy RaceJ the fight surveyed, 
Calling the fame of Lundy's lane 
To heap the field with hosts of slain, 
Avenge each violated hall. 



* Battle of Buena Vista. 
I Sister Republic. 

Shades of the ancient Mexicans, 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 55 



And free the land from faction's thrall. 

Should Freedom's champions scorn the thought 
To be by less than freemen fought, 
Or deem the triumph worse than vain 
O'er nerveless host that wear the chain ? 

Turn from the deeds of noble name, 
And view the sins of social shame, 
A countless train of varied dyes, 
From murder's stain to ivhitest lies ; 
From grand intrigues to petty schemes. 
The sharper's wiles, ambition's dreams ; 
Hypocrisy with Janus leer, 
And bigotry with scowl severe ; 
Dull envy with detractive speech 
Maligning worth it cannot reach, 
And sophistry with serpent tongue, 
By which the truth is sorest stung — 
These but the catalogue begin, 
Mere drops within the Ocean Sin. 

Nor few the idiot sons of pride, 
With each a vanity for bride ; 
Such let the laughing satirist show. 
My pen must point to scenes of woe. 
Where, gloomier than the wintry gale. 
Ascends the friendless widow's wail, 
Where poverty with pleading eye 
Beholds her famished-!^ orphans die, 
As prostrate pity vain implores 
Obdurate Mammon's swelling: stores, — 
But not in vain Columbian shores. 



* Famine in Ireland, 1847. 



56 THOUGHTS IN VERSh:. 



" Hail Columbia!" land of plenty, 

Open hearts and hands that dare, 
With thy daughters eight-and-twenty,* 

Hail Columbia, Freedom's heir ! 
Swift let the circling seasons roll 

That waft thee honor s blest increase, 
Till Earth is free from Pole to Pole, 

And thou with all the free at peace. 

Wanes the old year. In cloud and storm 
Lamenting Nature shrouds her form, 
As if she mourned with mourning man 
His perished hopes, his narrowed span ; 
O'er freindship's tomb —for virtue's fall, 
With few she mourns —she weeps for all. 

Departs the old year, 'forty-seven; 
Now eager thousands greet the ne-v, 
Whose souls, ere half its days bd through , 

iMust hence depart — be it to Heaven ! 




The thea number of States. 



^1 



mm OP LiBOR.*D^ 



Though with hands so wonder-working, 
Bhnd were they, those giant-bands, 

Who, in ages dimly distant, 
Civilized Earth's savage lands. 

Though they paved the paths of progress. 
Gave to empire base and gauge, 

Fame for them no trumpet sounded. 
History spurned them from her page. 

Had they seen and walked with wisdom. 
None had classed them with the slave ; 

Nor Ambition, Mammon, drove them, 
Crushed and bleeding, to the grave. 

War consumed them by the millions. 
When for conquest sceptres strove ; 

Peace, less swiftly yet as surely, 
When the victor's minions throve. 

Then the arch and costly column 

Rose to boast what despots did, 

While some Pharaoh's shrunken mummy 

Claimed stupendous pyramid. 
6- 



58 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Asia many a Nimrod vaunted, 
Egypt many a sceptered lord ; 

Cities, temples, ruin-haunted, 

Whom and what do these record ? 

Genius guiding patient Labor 
In each bold and fair design. 

While for many a prostrate people 
Freedom's sun had ceased to shine. 

Low the graves, and unregarded, 
Where the sons of Labor rest ; 
Folded to their mother's bosom, 
There they heed no lord's behest. 
1869. 




„^FRiUD AND F0R(5E.*ife- 

Where solely for a favored few 
The hapless millions toil and bleed, 

Yet fail, withal, enough to do, 

That groaning land is curst indeed. 

To Fraud and Force all Earth is prey; 

That dupes, and this subjects, the throng. 
Then both together share the sway 

And spoils of preconcerted wrong. 

Conspirators against the good 

Of humankind in every age, 
Strange that the plundered multitude 

Forbears to rend them in its rage ! 

In vain have slippery statesmen sought 
To compromise 'tween right zxidL wrong; 

Such temporizing ever brought 

Contentions baleful, fierce and long. 

They who would build a prosperous State, 
Still by the golden rule must frame, 

With no extreme of small or great 
That just proportion does not claim 



60 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Then strict Integrity must guard 

The avenues to public trust, 
Insure the patriot's fair reward, 

And bad ambition doom to dust. 

Yet foolish freemen idly sleep 

While rival interests wreck the State, 

Then wake — beneath a throne to creep 
From anarchy's all-evil fate. 

Free Rome had fall'n before the day 
Shrewd Caesar spurned the Rubicon ; 

The hour had come when one must sway, 
Or all by discord be undone. 

Too wide her sanguine eagle flew, — 
Relendess bird of pride and prey, 

Fit emblem for marauding crew ! — 
Invading regions far away. 

Corrupting gold and venal need, 
Patrician scorn, plebeian hate. 

With luxury's insatiate greed. 

Had banished virtue from the State. 

She mourned her freedom, 'reft of all; 

Too late, experience made her wise ; 
For none escape the despot's thrall, 

His brutal bands and secret spies. 

What can a Brutus' steel avail 

When Commonwealths forego their laws? 
The noblest zeal must ever fail 

That singly strikes in freedom's cause. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 61 

Yet Tells and Emmets still shall rise, 

To dare and die for sacred right, — 
Lo, faithful Erin^ still defies 

Perfidious Albions's tyrant might ! 

Let knaves and tyrants dread the day 

That final conflict must begin, 
When Truth's invincible array 

Shall sweep from Earth the hordes of Sin ! 

The bannered Cross unroll again ! 

That righteous emblem led the brave 
On Palestine's immortal plain, 

Shall yet in peaceful triumph wave 
From Pole to Pole, from main to main, 

From Fraud and Force a world to save. 
1868. 




* The Fenian movement, at the time prominent. 



Land of beauty, sun-loved Southland- 
Wronged, insulted, outraged Southland, 

Trampled, tortured, torn ! 
From thy bowers, blighted bowers, 
Strewn with sere funereal flowers, 

Dirgeful wail is borne. 

For the night of tribulation, 
Sabled shrines and desolation, 

Glooming all thy shores; 
For thy youthful, brave and truthful. 
Slain by banded foes unruthful, 

Freedom's self deplores. 

Arms and armies sceptered traders 
Sold and sent to thy invaders ; 

Many warred on one : 
Long the conflict, long and bloody ; 
Fields were crimson, rivers ruddy, 

Ere the fight was done. 

In the ghastly glee of battle. 
Mid the rush and roar and ratde, 

Many a hero's doom: 
One, thy Chieftain, since departed 
'' For his people broken-hearted," 

Mourns his honored tomb. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 63 

Ever heeding Freedom's leading, 

Lived thy martyrs; some died bleeding; 

All, beloved and true : 
Earth, in all her vast beholding. 
Time, in all his scroll's infolding, 

Never nobler knew. 

By thy faithful bards and sages 
To admiring future ages 

Will their worth be told. 
And not ever in forever 
Greater than their great endeavor 

May the world behold. 

They thy sons were, thine their story. 
Thine to share their cloudless glory. 

Mother, mourning now : 
Then, though friends seem now to fail thee. 
Though both man and fiend assail thee. 

Yet, despair not thou. 

Deeply injured land of sorrow, 
Trust to truth's rewarding morrow, 

Faith and works employ; 
Then thy bowers shall cease to languish, 
Then thy tearful moans of anguish 

Change to songs of joy. 

1872. 



^^IgHMiEL.*:! 



y^ 



At early morn rose Abraham, 

Constrained, in deep distress, 
To send his son with Hagar forth 

Into the wilderness. 
Of bread and water sadly scant 

Their perishing supply ; 
And thus outcast they went to live. 

Or in the desert die. 
Impelled from Sarah's jealous wrath, 

They wandered far the wild. 
Till sore fatigue and fevered thirst 

O'ercame the fainting child. 
No sympathizing aid of man, 

No sheltering tent, was nigh; 
None traced their course, none marked their woe, 

But the all-seeing Eye. 
Where desolation, like a pall. 

In gloomy grandeur spread ; 
Where every sound had mournful fall, 

Like clods on coffined dead; 
There 'neath a shrub the mother laid 

Her boy, and far off crept ; 
Then sat with sad, averted face. 

Complained aloud, and wept. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 65 

Then from the ambient heaven replied 

An angel's cheering tone : — 
" What ails thee, Hagar ? He hath heard 

Thy suffering Ishmael's moan. 
Arise, attend the lad ; behold, 

A fount's refreshing flow ! 
Lead thither; thence, in faith renewed, 

Onward with Ishmael go. 
His is this wide wild's fierce domain, 

E'n here to prosper well; 
By brethren shunned and feared, he still 

Shall in their presence dwell." 
Almost four thousand years have fled 

Since that prophetic day, 
And many a mighty empire since 

Arose — and passed away ; 
Through foreign regions Isaac's sons 

Are scattered far and wide; 
Yet freely o'er his promised land 

The sons of Ishmael ride. 
Swift gliding as the eagle's wing. 

Their tameless haunts they roam, — 
No hostile hands may bind the bands 

Whose flitting tents are home. 
Those slender tents shall long outlast 

The monarch's marble hall, 
Outlast proud Progress' vaunting arts, 

And triumph in their fall. 
1869. 



liRY, 



* 



In her valleys, on her mounatins, 
Peopled plains and deserts lone, 

Seas and lakes and flashing fountains, 
Syria's sun serenely shone. 

Galilee was tranquil beauty, 

Grateful gladness. Sabbath-born ; 

Glittered jewelled leaf and blossom 
In the coronal of morn. 

Minstrel birds were matins singing 
In the ringing woodland aisles ; 

Every altar offered incense. 

Nature charmed with sweetest smiles. 

Then a faultless Hebrew maiden 
Graced a garden, gliding slow, 

While the sun with pearly circlet 
Crowned her rich hair's ruby flow. 

Thronging round were sister flowers. 
Perfect in their varied bloom, 

Vying for her gentle greeting. 
Sighing exquisite perfume. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Though she gave no glance of heeding 

For the pleading floral race, 
Yet her face, so vestal sinless. 

Showed no sorrow's shading trace. 

Onward passed the maiden, chanting 
Soft and low a song of yore, 

Like the ark-crowned mountain listened 
Sung by world-renewing Noah. 

Where in foliage-braided bower 
Dewy twilight long delays, 

Near the vine-swung portal paused she. 
Statue-still in wonder-gaze. 

See! within that bloomy twining 
Bows a shining messenger, — 

Lowly, in his salutation, 

Bends the godlike guest to her. 

" Hail, most favored ! " thus the angel, 

" List! evangel joys I sing : 
Israel's great Messias cometh, — 

Thine the Prince of Peace to bring ! " 

Instant o'er the gloried garden 

Burst a flood of melody, 
Earth with tuneful transport trembled, 

Heaven prolonged the symphony. 

Reverent knelt the Blessed Virgin, 

Thus by Heaven's high mission hailed, 

Glowed her face with sacred rapture, 
Ecstasy her meek eyes veiled. 

Then the Holy Ghost, descending 
On the bending, votive maid. 



68 THOUGHTS IN VERSE 

With her human nature blending, 
God's great love to man displayed, 

Soared the paean — distant — melting 

In the azure far-away ; 
Still a fond and dreamlike echo 

Lingered all that lovely day. 

Thus was vanished Eden visioned 
On that morn in Palestine ; 

Thus was Eve atoned by Mary, 
Adam, by the Son Divine. 
January, 1875. 




INTRODUgTIVE, 



FOR MISS J. F. S 'S ALBUM. 

Like fading flowers in vernal bowers, 
Our youth's fair pleasures soon decay; 

Encroaching cares claim coming hours, 
And social virtues feel their sway, 

Till greeting hands scarce touch in fold, 

And love's changed eyes seem strangely cold. 

When thronging fears and toils and tears, 
With time, oppress the form and mind, 

How sweet to dream of vanished years ! 
For this the Album's page designed : 

May all its votive offerings show 

Dear friendships pure as angels know ! 
1868. 



^-^DEATH OF FRMDg,:k. 

A sacred grief within the soul, 

A softening of the eyes, 
As the sad bell's slow-measured knoll 

In deep-toned cadence sighs. 

Another friend, life's labors done, 
Has fled from strife and pain : 

Of all that blest since life begun, 
Alas, how few remain ! 

So oft we've mourned departing worth, 

Borne to the dread abyss. 
Life seems a funeral scene, and Earth 

One vast necropolis. 

Some in far fields of battle fell, 
When hate was vengeful hot, 

Mid loving homes some bade farewell ; 
Yet none may be forgot. 

As life's eventful pilgrimage 

Draws near its lonely end, 
How oft pale memory views the page 

That shows its earliest friend ! 

For not Jove's self unrivaled reigns 
fn young and faithful hearts ; 

Pure friendship first a dwelling gains, 
And bides when love departs. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Young love is, like the rose, but seen 
While blooms the vernant bower; 

Old friendship is the evergreen 
That cheers life's wintry hour. 

Yet in one heart may both abound, 

If worthiness be there ; 
Such union, by religion ciowned. 

Is beautiful as rare. 

Proud gems and gold, in sumless store. 

To this compared, are dross; 
Then deeply must the heart deplore 

Such priceless treasure's loss. 

Yet we should not lament as lost 
Friends passed to perfect rest; 

When death's dark gulf is safely crossed, 
The soul is amply blessed. 

Dear friends ! mourn not when I am gone- 

Be none but foes depressed ; 
Yourselves shall gently follow on, 

And they no more molest. 

February, 1876. 



^f^^)^ 



^IN MEMORIiM,a.___ 



Mrs. Elizabeth Lathim, Obit, 1872. 

She has lain all her burthens aside, 

She has gone to her rest, 
To the home where the ransomed abide. 

Where the faithful are blest; 
And no kindlier Christian, than she, 
Shall the needy and suffering see. 



^mr 



I. 

When the merry birds warble in blossoming bowers, 
When the clover and rye say that Summer is nigh, 
AVhile the chorus of Nature in fullness of powers 
With the promise of plenty enraptures the hours, 

Then for freedom and flowers how the city hive sigh! 
How with leisure to pleasure the fortunate fly ! 

II. 

Ere the warblers are mute, ere the blossoms are gone, 

Then were leisure most meet, then were pleasure most sweet, 
To the weary and worn, to the wretched and wan, 
Whom the eye of oppression glares sternly upon 
As they struggle and faint in the merciless street ; 
What a refuge to these were some sylvan retreat ! 

III. 

There are myriads of bees on melodious wing. 

Where the locust groves grow their blent emerald and snow, 

And an ocean of odors the Southern winds bring. 

And in infinite numbers vitalities spring. 

As the sunbeams of June, in a vertical flow, 
Are embracing the world with a life-giving glow. 

IV. 

In the mountains, where Winter's clouds treasured the store, 
All the channels redound, as with rushing resound 

To the plains the freed waters exultingly pour, 

And like thunder afar the wild cataracts roar. 

While Missouri, made mighty from tributes around, 
With victorious torrent sweeps over all bound. 



74 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

V. 

Lo! proud Summer has come, — but meek Spring has far sped : 
To the clime of pure rest, where our loved ones are blest, 

Where her garlanded sweets for the sainted are shed, 

To those Edens the beautiful fugitive fled ; 
Yet her smiling adieu still empurples the West 
While the couch of the sunbeam in glory is drest. 

VI. 

Now, where lindens lean gazing on mirroring brook. 
And the vines full in bloom all the valley perfume, 
Let the pupil of Walton well practice his hook, 
And the student dream over his favorite book, 

While in burning broad field and in dusty dim room 
The sad world of dull drudging drags on to the tomb. 

1869. 




gEPTEMBBR; 



It is the month of closing heat, 
Maturing field and fruited bough, 

When Summer leaves his Northern seat 
To Autumn, of the balding brow. 

Now, far from that quadrennial broil 

Ignoble aspirants incite 
Among the the simple sons of toil, 

To cheat them of each lingering right, 

To shun that self-deluding din 
I seek the wildwoods's leafy tent. 

Where glinting sunbeams, glancing in. 
Seem like sweet dreams to sadness sent. 

Here let me peaceful pass the day, 
And, like that placid gliding stream. 

Reflect, haunt memory's shadowy way, 
Or dream calm age's tranquil dream. 

Why need I care which demagogue 

The millions choose to mock their hope .? 

Whether he prove king Stork, or Log, 
Chagrin shall know no narrowed scope. 

Ah, sadly all the ages teach. 

That freedom's sons have still been few ; 
For, as the sacred pages preach. 

None merit freedom but the true. 



76 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

In vain the ages teach and warn, 
Almost in vain the page divine ; 

As yet, the struggling millions spurn 
Good counsel, prone to choose malign. 

Then why should I be yearned for those 
Who will not heed e'en Wisdom's voice ? 

'Twere best I seek my soul's repose, 
And leave the willful to their choice. 

And I've my own rude cross to bear, 
So heavy, oft it sinks me down ! 

Yet I have, blest precedent there, 

Who bore the scorners' mocking crown. 

1872. 




.^DEgEMBER/^ 



From a Scene Near the Osage River. 

With brow morose and numbing tread 
December comes to close the year; 

The landscape's beauty all has fled, 
And every view is sad and sere. 

No rustic's w^histling cheers the plow, 
No chorist birds in concert greet, 

Nor wooing South winds whisper now 
To blushing rose or woodbine sweet. 

Silent the shy repeatress, too, 

The glen recluse, where used to stray 
The loving, while impassioned flew 

Delightful June's cerulean day. 

Charmless and lone yon cedared clifl", 
Where Fancy wove her airy wreath ; 

Nor wood-duck's wing nor sailing skiff" 
Dimples the dwindled stream beneath. 

That stream in Summer curved amid 
A wilderness of verdant hue; 

At times in drowsy forests hid. 

Thence flashing forth in dazzling view. 

Then^ all-embracing, bright serene; 

Now, clouds on clouds opacous crowd, 
That on the dun decaying scene 

Ere long will spread the snowy shroud. 



78 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Swift down to night's redundant gloom 
Descends the dwarfed, dejected day, 

While, torpid in her annual tomb, 
Nature awaits resurgent ray. 

Yet they who tenure yonder height. 
Devote to wintry death's domain, 

Another sun^s life-giving light 
Await, that none await in vain. 

But do they wait ? In coffined cell 
Can but dissolving dross be found ? — 

Can '' darling Mattie's " * spirit dwell. 
Inert, in rock-hewn charnel's bound? 

Or, restless, yearning, is it roaming, 
A sinless sigh, the boundless air ? 

A vista opens through the gloaming, 
A vision gathers, soft and fair : — 

The bud will blow, the fountain flow. 
Again, and all the land be gay; 

Proud fields will show, in harvest glow, 
Their grain— shall these, then pass away ; 

But from the dust we vainly weep 

Hath bloomed a pure unfading flower, 

That God's most loving'angels keep 
To grace their own celestial bower, 

1873- 



*The wri.er's granddaughtei 



:^EPIgTLE TO DR. B, R, k M.2 



^ 



Dear Doctor B. : — Thou most fastidious fellow, 

Whose pippins are mature and judgment mellow, 

The Mewz, in lieu of close contactive meeting, 

Doth interrogatively give thee greeting. 

And begs, suspend thy bill-mg and thy cooing 

Till thou has told us what and how thou'rt doing. 

Say if salubrious art thou and thine, — 

If bodily and mental health combine 

To render ecstacy most exquisitely fine; 

Inform of thy designs, and eke thy habits. 

And if thou still delight'st in running rabbits; 

What grave pursuits now claim thy sage pursuing, 

And what frail mortal's life-lease thou'rt renewing. 

When thou dost ''practice,'' rid'st thou in a buggy. 

Or walk'st a horseback, when the ways are muggy, 

A whistling waltzes to thy playful doggie ? 

Are all thy patients " very bad,'' or worse ? 

And dost thou always purge them — in the purse ? 

In Summer dost thou always rise at early dawn. 

Or ere the matin star has yet withdrawn. 

To note if to their tasks thy loitering hinds have gone ; 

Or dost thou dally ni thy bed's embraces 

Till morning-glories veil their modest faces, 

And from on high Apollo's genial beams 

Kiss the glad groves, fair fields and simpering streams? 

When Borea's blasts around thy cottage seek 

Unsheltered vagrants with demoniac shriek. 

Dost thou not fancy them the ghosts ejected 

Of resurrected subjects thou'st dissected. 



80 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

And feel thyself not altogether well protected? 

Hast thou yet found the perfect way to do it, 
Id est, as alchemists long sought to shew it, 
Done by the philo-sopher's potent stone, 
That trick of touch to juggling Midas known ; 
Or dost thou drudge still in the old hard way 
That turns the plodder prematurely grey, 
And with rheumatiz racks the tenement of clay. 
While silken scoundrels swell in sumptuous state. 
Till, godless grown, they rouse avenging Fate? 

Dost scatter broadcast when thou sowest seed, 
Or work a coulter-drill of forcing feed ? 

Of all chaste Ceres' countless kinds of wheat, 
.Which dost thou hold hath least of smut and cheat? 

Wilt thou assume the shovel and the pick. 
When Spring returns, and hie with Doctor Dick 
To search for silver stores in far Montana, 
Where, high on proud wings circling, eagles scan a 
Wide waste precipitous of rock, and snow, 
And ice-bound streams that ne'er or rarely flow, 
And vasty heights, upheaved by Nature's hand, 
That midst majestic wonders sovereign stand, 
Defying might of braggart man, and Time, 
To break the scepter of their bleak sublime. 
There oft — as they who've witnessed well do know — 
From thundering depths some sudden volcano 
At night bursts forth, whose furious flames from high 
Glare on the valleys, threat the vaulting sky; 
Raging, the lurid glories spreading rise. 
Earth trembling reels and Night affrighted flies. 

There Indian hordes, and other savages, 
Commit the most heart-rending ravages, 
As, from his inaccessive granite den, 
Bruin beholds bold bands of mining men, 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 81 

And, in anticipative banquet, sweet, 

Bares his broad ivories to test the treat, 

Licks his huge lips and smacks his ponderous jaws. 

Then, roaring ravenous, springs his monstrous claws 

To clutch — ha ! dost thou dodge ? Sure, thou hast cause. 

Then, dare not thou the Fates by venturing there, 
Lest thou shouldst/^// acquainted with a bear. 
Or ''redskin devil," bent on "raising hair; " 
Of such, discretion bids the wise beware. 
How useless all his gathered ores to one 

Who gratis gets a grave in Grizzly's paunch ! 
Or, when the scalping-knife its work has done, 

Can sumless wealth the streaming death-wound staunch ? 
The disembodied spirit may not fly 
With earthly treasures to the home on high ; 
And, might it bear them to the world below. 
Could it enjoy the.ii //lere, where all is woe ! 

Then, seek not thou that arduous mountain-wild ; 
But to plain competence be reconciled. 
And still attend thy patients and thy farm, 
With eye to see and heart to feel each charm 
That Art and Nature lend the varied year, 
Blest with love, home, and early friendships near. 

While thus contented you resolve to live, 
Montana's ores but fancied good can give : 
Yet, in your prayers remember one who there. 
Beset by dangers, in an icy air, 
By honest effort seeks that glittering fruit, 
The love for which is evil's pregnant root. 



82 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

'Tis twenty years, and more, since last we met : — 
Ah, many a bud of hope has bloomed, then died, 
Fruitless, mid woman's tears and man's regret ; 
Full many a faithful heart been sorely tried ; 
Low humbled many a haughty son of pride; 
A deathly madness smitten all the land; 
Corruption's festering flood spread far and wide. 
And trusted treason seized supreme command. 
Since in the dear old home we clasped each other's hand 

We're well, and trust that you and yours are, too ; 
Accept our constant love, and so — adieu ! 

January, 1873. 



_^T0 DR. R, J, g„ EgQ„ KY,D^ 



Protean brother, all trades Jack at, 
What is't thou hast not shown a knack at ! 

Mid scenes of sylvan beauty born. 
When minstrel bird and fragrant thorn 
With song and incense hailed the morn, 
A Genius, fair and versatile, 
Did on thy tree-hewn cradle smile. 
And bade, with soul-inspiring eyes, 
"Right onward speed and upward rise !" 

That " man is never satisfied," 
In you is well exemplified ; 
And vve admit your aptness all in. 
Except, perhaps, your latest callin', 
In which — had nothing yet to read. 
We're not prepared to mete your meed, 
Yet think, as usual you'll succeed ; 
At least, you have our worded wishes 
That you'll be whale(d ?) amongst the fishes. 

Most difficult of all your doing, 
And lie-able to misconstruing, 
You'll find your present task of writin' 
A heedless public to enlighten ; 
And editorial tittle-tattle 
Of crops and swine and biped cattle 
Will sure provoke an inky battle ; 
For editors are but a butt 
Whereat each other slings his smut ; 
Almost as vain as petty poet. 
Combative quite as William Go-at, 



84 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

When naughty boys him do throw at, 
They scrawl and brawl and charge about, 
In fierce invective savage stout. 

Though sheets of excellent advice 
You pen, smart typos in a trice, 
By changing words and punctuation, 
Can with them play the very '' 'nation," 
And make their writer seem as stupid 
As maudlin lover snubbed by Cupid. 
But, if your lucid piece be set 
Exact, what honor shall you get ? 
Some envious ed. may hint you stole 
It from some musty pigeon hole, 
And, though the charge be proved a lie. 
You're injured in the vulgar eye : 
Another, garbled or entire. 
As suits convenience or desire. 
Will reproduce it as his own, 
Quotation points nor credit shown. 
Then bid his satellites admire. 

Some papers mostly advertise, 
And cram the crowd with cunning lies 
To help humbugging rascals rise. 
Whom they term " men of enterprise:" 
Others play '^shrewd'' at politics, 
That game unmatched for knavish tricks, 
And soon become ambition's tools, 
Bribed to betray the '' honest fools." 
And what care they how great the harm 
They do ? They're /<2/^, — ah, that's the charm 
Yet few rebuke, though many see ; 
So cowed, or much corrupt, are we. 



THOUGHTS IX VERSE. 85 

Kind, thoughtful friend, blame not the line 
That mourns our country's swift decline ! 
But yes ferday, so great, so fair, 
Might none of Earth with her compare : 
Her sons were sovereigns, every one, 
None nobler ever viewed the sun : 
Proud magnates thronged from every land, 
To offer wreaths, to kiss her hand : 
She frowned, — high monarchs bowed them, sad; 
She smiled, — and all the world was glad. 
And now! her moral grandeur gone. 
Broken her bower, her beauty wan, 
Her white robe rent, and darkly stained 
By conquest o'er her virtue gained ; 
A mongrel monster's paramour. 
She sinks and sins with open door, 
While friends lament her ruined fame. 
And foes rejoicing point her shame. 
■ Nor may she hope, impenitent., 
To know the peace, the pure content, 
That weeping Magdalena felt. 
When at the Savior's feet she knelt, 
Released from sin's oppressive weight, 
Forgive?i ! for her love was great : 
But ivho forgives remorseless hate ! 

May due success, and health^ renewed, 
With such delight as rectitude 
Of heart pours on the dreaming eye. 
Attend your onward way, — Goodbye ! 

January 1873. 



He was theo suffering from a severe infliction. 



Witt] aRsturned '^PiGture-Prize Ticket, 

To Art'Co. 

Gentlemen : — 

The pen may plan some bare outline ; 

The brush must robe that rigid form 

In pliant colors, fair and warm, 
To vivify the cold design : 
So impecuniosity, 
With idly vain verbosity, 
May show an impotent desire 

For beauties only wealth can gain, — 

Those "gems," of pictured land or main, 
Aglow with fancy's genial fire : 
Hence mustl, — churlish though it seem 
To thus repay your marked esteem, 
Which by the proffered " prize " I learn — 

For lack of cash significate 

To win, your "gift" certificate 
With baren thanks to you return. 
Whereby, which is a little hard. 

Poet and painter miss reward. 

February, 1878. 



^FLORA'S QUEST.D^ 



Written in Miss Anna B. B— 's Album. 

Once, for prize to bring 

Her twin sister, Spring, 
Lovely Flora went a Maying, 
Over many a region straying, 
Many a mead, and vale, and mountain, 
Glowing garden, fairy fountain. 
Searched to find a fadeless flower ; 
Vainly still in shine and shower 
Sought — not yet in Anna's bower. 

'' I will go,"— she said 
With uplifted head— 
" Go where other flowers are blooming 
Fair as these, as unassuming, 
Those that, in themselves uniting 
Every virtue, love inviting. 
Blest beyond all / can dower. 
Well may show some fadeless flower; 
He7ue I go to Anna's bower." 

1878. 



Let us weave a rhyme by memory's rays, 
A changeful chime for our vernal days, 
When as mountain snow our souls were white, 
Our hearts as light as the fountain's flow. 

Then was our world young, and all day long 
The gay scenes rung with our laughing song ; 
Then still, in dreams, mid the wildwood shade 
We roamed and played, or angled the streams. 

Thus childhood's hours, like the morning dew. 
And its purple flowers, in freshness flew; 
Then a maiden fair and youth drew nigh, 
Danced lovingly by, pursued by — Care ! 

Ah, never more shall our sad steps know 
That Edenly shore of long ago ! 
For, though age yearns for the youthful clime^ 
On track of Time never train returns. 



-^i 



£PROgPEmVE.D^ 



Shall we never again youth's raptures know, 
That sinless strain of the long ago ? 
Shall we meet no more that loving band 
Of the memory land our hearts deplore ? 

There is a blest clime, — where angels dwell, 
Where changeful Time, where the mournful knell. 
Sadden no soul and wither no form, 
Nor cloud and storm o'er the region roll. 

There seraphs combine with saints to sing 
Of the divine redeemer and king; 
But those fair scenes bloom distant away, 
We widely stray, and death intervenes. 

When the tristful tide is ferried o'er. 
With Faith, far-eyed, at the guiding oar, 
In the sinless land then souls may gree 
At the Savior's feet, His ransomed band. 

•875- 




^IVES.^. 



What is earthly grandeur ? fleeting — 
Like the smiles of foemen, greeting — 
Like the joys of lovers, meeting — 
When fate impends. 

By a mansion gate a lonely 
Lazar dies ; over him, only 
An angel bends. 

In that mansion, sounds of sighing, 
Praying priest, and vi^oman crying ; 
Lo ! its lord lies dying, dying 

Mid mourning friends. 

Swiftly sped on fiery pinions 
Deep down to the dread dominions 
A soul descends. 

W^eeping, there, and hopeless wailing, 
Keen Remorse his prey assailing, 
Penitence now unavailing 

To stay the fiends. 

Guilty gains and godless pleasures, 
Folly-heaped in carnal measures. 
Bring like amends. 

1878. 



■ _^1MPR0MPTU,D^ 

On Awakening frOxM Sleep, Midnight, Jan 
UARY, 1873. 

A strange unrest pervades my soul, 

A longing, never felt before, 
As if to cross the waves that roll 

And break upon that destined shore. 
Where time and death have no control, 

And tempted weakness sins no more. 




^THE FALLDi^ 



I. 

Where blooms the magnoHa, grand, 

By the manifold river, that flows 
Enrichingly through the bright land, 

Our hill-crowning city arose ; 
She was famed to the empires ot Earth, — 

To the vassals of Winter and Night ; 
These slandered her generous worth, 

All envied her freedom and light. 

II. 

As thunderclouds gathering show 

A war of the elements nigh, 
The marshalling force of the foe 

Gave warning to fight or to fly : 
To fly. we disdained, yet to fight 

At such odds seemed but flight to the grave 
For their legions arrayed every height. 

Their monitors blackened the wave. 

III. 

As the victim that serpents have bound 

With their colls in a crushing inclose^ 
Was our city, beleagured around 

By hosts of implacable foes : 
Our servile submission, or death, 

They demanded with insolence high, — 
Our gun with impetuous breath 

Hurled back a defiant reply. 



THOUGHTS ly VERSE. 

IV. 

Then instant with venomous dash 

Their musketry arguments fell, 
While their crashing artillery's flash 

Urged the heavier logic of Hell : 
Thus in deadly debating were borne 

Many days down adversity's flood, 
Till the city in ruins lay torn, 

And the ruins cemented with blood 

V. 

Then, our stores spent by ravage and use, 

Our defenders few, famishing, maimed, 
Calamity counseled a truce, 

And hence was surrender proclaimed : — 
O Freedom, thy banner of yore 

Be \hy shroud — tear the wreath from thy brow! 
For thy spi?'it then fled from our shore. 

And thy symbols are mockery now. 

1879. 




A Maytime Revery. 

{Rustic. 
Birds. 
Echo. 

Scene — In the West. A cleiring in a forest; plain farmhouse, partly 
surrounded by grove of fruit and timber trees; kitchen and 
flower garden, on fence of which leans aged Rustic, looking 
up at a Mocking-bird on cherry tree. 

Rustic. 

Bird of the elegant form, but plain coat, 
Wandering rapturist, music-devote, 
Many toned melodist, prime in degree, 
Every bird's carol yields tribute to thee. 
Sweet are thy songs in the concert of Spring, 
Precious remembrances they ever bring, — 
Ghosts of young pleasures, heart-treasures of yore, 
Friendship to value and love to adore, 
Haunting lone age to the ultimate shore. 

Visitant, rare to the chill-breathing West, 
While thou art rocking on cherry-tree crest, 
Say., whence thy free wafting, whither thy quest ? 

Bird. 

Inquisitive senior., attend the reply : — 
We're roamers, my downy wing Fleetie and I, 
From the coralline strand of a wonderful land 

Of soft-spreading valleys and mountains sublime ; 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 95 

Where, as bountiful now as from Deity's hand, 

Nature exults in perennial prime ; 
Where, vocal his lute in voluptuous bower, 
Love is a lord of invincible power ; 
Where, nightly in redolent garden and grove. 
Quaint little fairy-folks fanciful rove, 
Or, down in the dell where the moss-carpet springs, 
Dance to the melodies Merribird^ sings. 
Till Chanticleer shrill 

Warns from afar, 

As the matinal star 
Beacons the hill. 

To your vast-reaching valley we glance with the beam 
That arrays its broad landscapes in beauty supreme ; 
And we come on a leisurely visiting tour 
To cousins that with you rude winter endure. 
And by many a chirruping ditty allure 
Of slow-coming Summer and harvest to dream. 

Rustic. 

Welcome enthusiast, say. 
In the clime of thy favorite stay. 
Amid brightness and bloom 
And balmy perfume, — 
In those lands of abounding delight, 

Does poverty s plaint ever sound, — 
Is might ever throned over right, — 

In their bowers is serpent guile found, — 
Ever heard is the dull-moaning knell, — 

Transitive chorister, tell ! 



* The Mocking-bird, of which at least one species, the louisiana, is a charmini 
night chanter. 



96 THOUGHTS IN VERSE 

Bird. 

Now why have you bid me my gladness depress? 

Though so lovely and grand is that radiant land, 
And so favored is life in its bounteous clime, 
That nations might well there in harmony dwell, 
Nor blot with a crime the fair record of time ; 
Yet is man, even there, as unwise as elsewhere. 
As sensual, covetous, prone to oppress. 
As servile, as haughty, and all in excess. 
Mid the Tropical glow or the gloom of the Pole, 

If prosperity bless or adversity curse, 
In his heart is a canker, a cloud on his soul, 

For his earthly estate is an heirdom perverse. 
As a despot or slave, as the dupe or the knave, 
He creeps from his cradle to grope to his grave ; 
Then, if worship of wealth was his service and boast, 
What final view guerdons his lingering ghost? 
Lo ! heirs and attorneys, these human hyenas. 
Fight over his hoard in judicial arenas. 
While kindred, in amity dwelling before, 
By lucre made foes, are estranged evermore, 

Must I still the sad prospect pursue ? 
Ah, ever and everywhere view 
Penury's hut by the palace of pride, — 
Tyranny's myrmidons ravaging wide, — 
Lily-souled purity perfidy's prey, — 
Graveyards and mourners in ghastly array ; 
These are the pictures humanity 

Crowds on the canvas of history. 
Scenes of a tragic insanity 

Grouped in a drama of mystery ; 
Sombre these sketches, but true. 
Pensive inquirer, adieu! 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 9. 

Rustic. 

Moralist — satirist, hold ! 
A moment thy ready wing fold 
In a parting less dreary and cold : 
O, sing me again in a happier strain, 
Or evermore tuneless and moody remain ! 

Bird. 

If my best notes may soothe a sore heart, 
The descant shall briefly impart 
What was heard from a chapel, one day, 
As near it I happened to stray, — 
The windows were open, for fair 
Was that Sabbath and fragrant the air: — 

" Could the doubter explore, like the prophet * sublime, 
'The valley of vision, the sealed book of time,' 
Life's mystery, then, less involved might appear, 
God's providence plainer, His presence more near, 
And His chastening love but in seeming severe. 
Enough, that the conscious soul feels He is Just, 
Awarding the worker, if perishing dust, • ^ 

Or essence immortal, all recompense due. 
According as purpose and action are true. 
Hence, the prudent still flourish, the foolish decay : 
Hence, while doubt stands to czy'iX, faith speeds the right way. 
What is faith ? but the answer of conscience within. 
True reason rebuking arch-sophister sin. 
Faith leads to repentance — reform — and the Lord ; 
Thus faith is election — a work — a reward, — 
Reward even now in this world; 
For, though Satan's black banner unfurled 
Embattle his legions to scath, • *^ 



Isaiah. 



98 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Secure in the care of eternal Control 

Faith's children shall dwell, ever tranquil and whole, — 

Like a rock-guarded isle mid the menacing roll 

Of Ocean upheaved by the hurricane's wrath. 

O, if faith even here can such comfort bestow. 

What bliss shall the faithful in Paradise know ! 

But no sin-loving spirit may hear 

The glad anthems that swell on ihat shore, 

Where the sainted in glory with angels adore. 

Then, O ye forlorn ! seek compassion and cheer 

Where seeking is gain, — of the life-giving Word." 

Turn ! — attempt not to follow that luminous flight 
Up the sacred serene to the Fountain of light. 
Frail muse of the grove ! It became the divine, 
Yet, though gifted, to preach may become not the bird : 
But to merrily teach a melodious lore 
To musical vagrants, the minstrels of air; 
To be patient and thankful, whatever the fare, 
Contented and cheery, and never repine 
For the things that accord not with Nature's design, — 
But ever beware of a snake* and a snare. 

Rusiic. 
Now, versatile warbler, right welcome thy song, 

Benign with the adorant spirit of Spring : 
Delightful preceptor, thy lesson prolong, — 

Let garden and grove with thy rhapsody ring ! 

Bird. 
From our rose-curtained lodge hear my charmer now calling, 
" Flit hither, my love ! " further converse forestalling : 
And much I mistrust I can profit men aught ; 
For some are conceited, and will not be taught. 
And most would be flattered, not shown their defects, 



*Sn<ikeor sne xk / — but they are synon> ma. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 99 

While but few choose the mirror that truly reflects; 
And in vain would my song with the selfish condole, 
For a hog harbors neither a conscience nor soul, 
And /togs, though politely termed srcme, are they all 
That heed neither pity's nor honesty's call. 

Now, Fleetie, dear Fleetie ! I hasten to you : — 
[F/i'es, and alights on a spray of the nest-bearing rosebush?^ 
Sing tirrity lirrity, rury aroo ! 
Right merry is May 
When hither we stray. 

She i^Froni within). 
For we come with the splendor, abide with the bloom. 

He. 

But sad is the year 
When we disappear. 

She. 
For we go with its glory, evanish from gloom. 

He. 
When her gay Spring and gorgeous adorning 

Are faded, and Flora soon going, 
Takes tribute of woodbine and clover ; 

When Summer grows earnest and glowing. 
And songless are Evening and Morning ; 

When darlings on full wing are flying, 
Our cousinly pleasurings over, 

And sighing is final good-bye-ing, — 

Both. 

Then away, away on the wing of the rover ! 

He. 
Where, from their fay-guarded fountains 



100 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

High on the snow-hooded mountains. 

Streams lovingly flow 
Along vistas enchantingly beaming ; 
Where Time is a loiterer, dreaming ; 
Where evergreen groves and savannas 
Their wealth of ambrosial ananas 

x\nd oranges grow,— 

Both. 
There we tunefully gliding will go ! 

Echo ( Frofn the forest. ) 
^ Glidingly go-o ! 

May, 1878. 



Blossoms and birds ! — the poesy of Spring, 
Herself a poem, ,truer, lovlier far 
And more divine, than ever mortal muse 
In inspiration's happiest hour conceived, — 
The soul regardless of their gentle charms, 
In every sense is dead to harmony 
And beauty, dead to every genuine joy, 
Beyond all hope of resurrection, dead ! 

Winter, severe, and of protracted reign, 
Abruptly now foregoes our ravaged zone, 
And genial Spring, with daisied step, and smile 
Beaming of heaven, at once proceeds to deck 
The scene with leaf and bloom, and gladden man 
With promise of abounding fruitfulness. 
Nor her sole retinue the floral train. 
Silently charming, but innumerable sounds, 
Of the winged world in varied melody. 
Enchant the quickened landscapes all around. 
Her trusty harbinger, Frank Robin, came 
Erewhile, reminding thankless, faithless man 
Of the old covenant with patriarch Noah ; 
And now from far lands, ever-vernant, all 



102 THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 

Her airy choirs with greeting notes return. 

Welcome, gay vagrants ! though mere summer friends, 

In censure phrase some cynic minds, too sour 

Themselves for friendship's sweet devotedness, 

Miscall your migratory tribes, because 

You shun the shock of ruffian Winter's rage, 

And adverse fare, and even this by Boor, 

That stench of slinking sordidness, begrudged 

The few less volant birds that here abide. 

To man, too oft your jailor and your fate, 

You owe few songs of kindliness or thanks; 

For not by him, but Providence, you live. 

What if sometimes your brooding nest you l^uild 

Near by his dwelling, trusting there the hawk 

Dare not molest, and though perhaps the man 

May love and would protect your confidence. 

And so inspires his own susceptive young. 

Yet even then how seldomly unharmed 

By sneaking lout, insidious snake or cat, 

You rear your family till safely fledged ! 

I hence, though loth, advise you rather trust 

The wilderness for niding-place, although 

Some trouble there may chance, as periled less 

Than man's vicinity, which proves, alike 

As foe or friend, malign to innocence. 

Dear fugutives ! of you my verse began. 
Amid the flowers and you, my verse shall sigh 
Its final note ; but not my last adieu 
To the loved themes: for when, as soon must be. 
My weary form rechnes in longed repose 
In some reclusive, tranquil nook, untrod 
By eager gain's insatiate herd, where boughs 
O'erwave and pebbly streamlet sings, with none. 



THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 103 

Of all that live, but one companion heart, 
Long tried and true, to ever rest by mine, 
Yet even then methinks my very dust 
Will there rejoice with Spring's delightful train. 
Her incense-wafting flowers and tuneful birds. 

May 4th, i88t. 




